Jazz
by sunshinedreamer57
Summary: Meet Jazlynn Smith, a fifth-year Hogwarts transferee. She's insightful, mildly eccentric, and has finally met her match: Fred and George Weasley. FxOC *In the process of being rewritten.*
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing... except the character of Jazz. **

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

Those three simple words were meant to feel welcoming, but they did not cross me as so. I might be a bit biased, though, because I had no prior intentions on transferring schools. Of course, that was before a friend of mine and I decided it would be funny to short-circuit the magical wall back at my old school. It had taken the officials all of forty-five minutes to expel us, and my dear old mother all of five to transfer me across the Atlantic.

I realized a little too late that the stern woman was still talking, but I could not bring myself to pay that much attention to her words as I sized her up. She was tall, with an aged face and the sternest beady eyes I had ever seen. I mean, her eyes gave even the charms teacher at my old school a run for her money. She had her dark hair twisted up in a tight bun, and by the way she held herself, she gave me the impression that I did not want to be on her bad side and that would be the reason I figured I should start paying attention to what she was saying.

"It has been a while since we have had any transferees."

I took that as a good sign that I had not missed very much of whatever she had been talking about.

"You should understand that while you are within the jurisdiction of this school you are the responsibility of the headmaster, myself, and the head of your yet-to-be-determined house, as well as the rest of the staff. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, ma'am," I assured her.

Her expression turned even sterner, if that was at all possible, as she looked me over. I bit lip, cursing my habit as I remembered all to late that I had busted it playing quodpot the other day. A strand of my long black hair fell into my face and I pushed it behind my ears, laughing internally at Professor McGonagall's grimace when she noticed the blue strip I had dyed a couple weeks ago. I was laughing internally until my blue-green eyes met her, making me think that I should maybe answer the next question with a little more… etiquette.

"Very well," she continued nonetheless. "As you know, I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and head of Gryffindor house."

I think she might have mentioned it once before, but I had not been paying attention. I was not going to tell her that, though.

"If you would, follow me to the headmaster's office, where you will be sorted into one of the four houses: Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, or Slytherin," she continued, leaving me to assume I had not missed any more of what she had said.

With that being said, she turned on her heel and walked swiftly in the other direction, her emerald green robes billowing behind her in an air of dignity, and I took that as my cue to follow her. Her pace forced me to take three steps to her every one, my barely five foot height giving me no assistance.

The journey seemed to take forever, and I was certain that I would never be able to navigate it without magical help. She stopped suddenly in front of a statue of a gargoyle that I am pretty sure I would have passed up, causing me to nearly run into her.

"Cockroach Clusters," Professor McGonagall said to it.

It stepped aside, and the wall behind it split open to reveal a spiral staircase. She glanced back at me, and I took it as a sign to follow her to the base of the staircase.

I almost jumped off when I felt it start slowly rotating upwards, but one look from Professor McGonagall, paired with raised eyebrows, told me it would be pointless to do so.

The walls the gargoyle had opened seconds prior closed suddenly, and I sighed knowing that the ominous staircase I was standing on was leading me closer to my undesired fate at this school without any care of my preferences.

The staircase finally stopped its dizzyingly ascent in front of a polished oak door. Behind it I heard muffled voices, and I prayed there were not that many people in there or else it was going to be a rather unsettling situation.

Professor McGonagall knocked on the door with the griffin-shaped brass knocker that I had not noticed beforehand. A voice bade us in, and she wasted no time in opening the door. Not surprising, though; I never really pegged her as the procrastinating type.

The room she led me into was large and beautiful and circular and not at all like the headmistress's at my old school. Hers was dark and, more often than not, wet and smelled like old rotten shoes (yes, I had been in there plenty enough times to know every little detail), but this office was well lit and feathery dry and smelled like a mixture of a candy store and wool socks. It had many windows; one that looked to a sporting field that I would guess was a quidditch pitch and one that showed the mountainous beauty surrounding the school.

"Horrible posture, burn on the back of her shoulder, worn and dirty trainers, holes in the knees of her trousers, she must be your American transferee, Albus," a condescending man's voice spoke from above me.

I looked around, expecting to see someone levitating just above the office door, but instead I was met with the portrait of a rather aristocratic-looking wizard.

"Now, now, Phineas, let's not be too early to judge," the old man sitting in the high-backed chair behind the desk in front of where Professor McGonagall was standing said.

The wizard in the painting mumbled under his breath and sent me a couple of dirty looks, but said nothing more to him.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

Have I not already established the fact that those three words do not hold up to their intending?

"I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster," the old man continued, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-mooned glasses even more so when the snort escaped my lips. "And you must be Miss Jazlynn Smith."

What kind of parent would name their kid _Jazlynn_? I often ask myself, and I get the same answer every time: mine. My full name is Jazlynn Chloe Smith, but Jazz is what I answer to. I had no time to tell him or Professor McGonagall that, though, as he continued talking.

"Since I assume Professor McGonagall has already went over the rules and regulations here at Hogwarts, why don't we see which house you will be in for the duration of you time here," he said.

He was standing by then, his long silver hair appearing even longer than I had originally thought. He reached above him and took a tattered old wizard's hat from the shelf.

_Is it going to sing? _I thought to myself. _Oh, Merlin, please do not let it sing! _

The one at my old school sung. It was a bowl, not a hat, mind you, but it still insisted on singing after every single person was sorted. I was one of the last to be sorted in my year, my last name being Smith and all, and needless to say I had all intentions of knocking the fruit bowl to the ground and shattering it before it sung for me. When I stuck my hand in, though, I no longer wanted to shatter the bowl; I just wanted to stop the freaking thing from tickling me which is why I nearly knocked it off the table... I do not guess I have to point out the fact that he and I did not get along very well…

"Miss Smith?" Professor McGonagall's voice penetrated through my memory.

_Uh-oh_, I thought. I had been too caught up in thinking about that forsaken bowl that I had completely tuned out whatever they had been saying.

"Yes?" I said, hoping, in vain, that she did not realize I had no clue what she had just said.

"The hat," Professor McGonagall said sternly, thrusting it on my head.

Oops. I guess I did miss something big. Of course, it was just my luck that it had been something Professor Undies-in-a-Wad had said.

"_I could tell her you think that, you know,"_ a voice in my head spoke.

I nearly screamed in fright.

"_Not a good idea, unless you want Professor Undies-in-a-Wad to be even more unhappy with you," _the voice condoned, as though reading my mind.

"_And how do you know I'm not?"_ the voice asked.

"_You're worse than that stupid bowl," _I thought to myself.

"_Do I dare request you not give me the same fate you almost gave the bowl?"_

"_Hey, that bowl had it coming!" _I thought to myself indignantly. _"Besides, Professor Undies-in-a-Wad would probably transfigure me into a goblet or something if I did."_

"_I would sing a thousand songs to see that," _the voice answered.

"_Wait—Am I arguing with myself?" _

"_Do you think Professor Undies-in-a-Wad or the headmaster can hear me?"_

"_Great! I can just see the headlines of the _Prophet _now: First Signs of Insanity Appearing in a Sixteen Year Old Girl!"_ I thought sarcastically.

"_I wasn't aware the _Prophet_ delivered in the States," _the voice said conversationally.

"_The _Daily Prophet _doesn't. I was referring to the _New York Prophet_,"_ I replied. _"Aren't you supposed to be sorting me into a house or whatever?" _

"_You're quite correct," _the voice said. _"It's just I never get to have a conversation in the Great Hall; the headmaster worries about the time and all."_

"_Understandable."_

"_So… Where should I put you?" _

"_Shouldn't you decide that?" _

"_Yes, but most students already have an idea of which house they want to be in."_

"_But most students haven't attended a different magical school for the past five years," _I pointed out.

"_True," _the hat agreed. _"Well, you do have a great deal of wit, mostly sarcasm."_

"_Comes from years of practice," _I thought.

"_Shh, you, I'm trying to sort you," _the hat said lightly. _"There's also creativity and intelligence, once again I think that would be classified as sarcasm."_

"_Someone's gotta have it, might as well be me."_

"_What did I say about talking?"_

"_I wasn't talking."_

"_You know what I meant, Miss Smarty-Mouth. Alas, though, I think you would drive even the Ravenclaws up the wall with that tongue of yours. Loyalty and hard work are present, Merlin only knows how, but putting you in Hufflepuff would not go over so well."_

"_And what exactly does that mean?"_

"_Hush, you. You seem to have the dominant traits of a Slytherin. Merlin himself couldn't deny your cunningness or ambition, but would it be wrong to place you in Gryffindor? Albeit, it is Professor Undies-in-a-Wad's house, you have nerve and courage with that mouth of yours, as well as in general I must say. So where to put you?"_

"_Not in Professor Undies-in-a-Wad's house," _I thought.

"_I thought you might say that, but nonetheless, you're a _GRYFFINDOR!" the hat said the last part out loud much against my wishes.

"_In time, you'll realize this is where you were destined to be," _the hat said to me.

"_Yeah, that wasn't corny at all," _I said sarcastically to it. _"Go talk to your nail, maybe you'll listen to it more than you listened to me."_

Professor Undies-in-a-Wad (OK, I see that I am no longer at liberty to call the head of my new house any kind of names) pulled the hat off my head.

"It seems you and my sorting hat bonded, Miss Smith," Professor Dumbledore remarked.

"Stupid top hat," I mumbled.

"Minerva, you're free to escort Miss Smith here up to Gryffindor Tower," Professor Dumbledore said.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall said, beckoning me to follow her.

I sighed and followed her, sending a death glare back at that stupid hat.

Professor McGonagall led me back out the way we came, but went up the stairs instead of down them this time. We climbed one staircase after another and I wondered if it would ever end. Of course, the fact that the staircases were constantly moving and some of them had missing stairs (which she neglected to tell me about until _after_ I'd stepped into one) meant that it would take a miracle for me to learn my way around. She soon stopped in front a painting a rather fat lady in a pink dress.

"Good evening, dear Professor," the lady greeted. "New student I take?"

Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Phoenix tears," she said to the painting.

The portrait swung open and Professor McGonagall led me through.

Her next words were just about as comforting as the first ones she had spoken to me were.

"Welcome to the Gryffindor common room."

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**A/N: It's long overdue, but I've finally posted it. Please review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing you recognize.**

Everything was scarlet and gold. And I mean everything—the squashy armchairs, the drapes.

I sighed, annoyed, as I looked around.

"Your dormitory is up the stairs to the left," Professor McGonagall informed me. "I trust you can find your way."

The common room back at my old school was nothing like this. This one was circular, but my old one was rectangular and adorned in blue and silver. In my old one, there were couches (since I am at Hogwarts do I have to refer to them as sofas now?) everywhere and long comfortable rugs that you could lay on in front of one of the three fireplaces. It had a big long window for one of the walls, unlike the many small windows that were in this room. These windows had a better view; all you could see from my old common room was the forest.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, bringing me back to reality. I realized she was waiting for me to reply.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, hoping I had not missed anything she had said. "I think I can manage."

She pursed her lips and nodded, before walking back out of the common room.

"You must be the transferee," a boy to my left said.

I looked at him. He was tall, with red hair and eyes so full of mischief it was like I was staring into my old best friend's eyes again.

"You must be a veteran student," I shot back.

The boy grinned.

"I like you," he said.

I hesitated slightly, weighing his words.

"I'm glad."

It seemed a little weird to me to hear him say that, but I soon realized he meant my style, my tongue, and not anything more.

"Fred Weasley," he said and then pointed to another boy, "and George."

It was only then that I realized there was two of him, or rather that there was another identical boy sitting on the arm chair beside of him.

"Jazzlyn Smith," I offered and then grimaced. "Make that Jazz."

"Jazz?" Fred repeated, trying out my name as though he was trying a new flavor of ice cream for the first time. "I like it. It's… American."

"Well, duh, I'm American," I retorted, sitting down unceremoniously on the sofa in front of the two of them.

He laughed.

"So what made you transfer to a school halfway around the world?" his twin brother asked.

"Technically it's not _halfway around the world_, just a few hundred miles—uh, kilometers," I corrected him.

"Technicalities."

I laughed.

"So why did you transfer?" George asked again.

"Got caught messing with the power source at my old school and got expelled," I replied nonchalantly. "By the time Mom stopped yelling, she transferred my rear end here."

"_Messing with the power source_?" Fred repeated.

I laughed again, this time not at George, but at the fact that Fred was repeating more of my words than he was coming up with his own.

"To make a long story short: my best friend and I had planned on rewiring some of the components to make most of the spells performed within the walls react oppositely of what they were supposed to," I explained.

The twins looked at each other and then looked at me, admiration written clearly on their faces.

"Wicked!" they exclaimed in unison.

I smiled self-consciously.

"What year are you in?" Fred asked, leaning forward in interest.

I took a seat on the armchair in front of him.

"I like two and a half years to graduate. So in your alls' terms: fifth," I replied.

"Brilliant," Fred said, apparently pleased at my answer.

"So are we," George added.

I found myself grinning alongside the twins.

"So why Hogwarts?" Fred questioned.

"Why not?" I challenged.

Fred raised his eyebrows in the way that suggested I should give him a straight answer. I dropped my eyes from his.

_Why Hogwarts?_ Hah. Mainly because dear old Mom had decided I needed to be far away from my comfort zone and away from the problems at home.

"'Cause there's no hot guys at the Salem Witches' Institute."

"So all you care about is _hot guys_?" Fred asked.

I shrugged, offering no verbal response to his question.

"What're you guys doing up at this time anyway?" I asked instead, hungry for a topic change before the two of them asked another question like the last one.

"We wanted to see the new girl for ourselves," George replied, much in the same way I had just answer their question. "There's not many transferees that come here…"

Only George could pull it off better than I did. His answer might have also been empty, but he delivered it and backed it up with information as though he had been expecting the question.

"What are you doing getting here so late?" Fred asked, leading me to think that George had indeed expected my previous question.

I shrugged.

"It's not really that late," I said, glancing down at the wristwatch on my right arm.

"It's one AM!" Fred bellowed incredulously.

I laughed.

"Here, maybe," I agreed.

I rolled my eyes at the look the twins were giving me.

"So what's the real reason you all are up?"

"What's the real reason you are here at Hogwarts?"

The three of us stared at each other, daring the other to reveal the secretive truth of their motives. I didn't budge. Years of sitting in my old common room as the head of my old house towered over me as she tried time and time again to find out what I did and why I did it gave me the upper hand in our staring contest.

Maybe Fred and George were expecting a decorated story consisting of the high life going wrong or maybe they were expecting a tragedy that I was escaping, but I gave them neither. I could also tell they were giving me nothing as well.

"You know, you guys are acting as though there's something going on that you all don't want anyone to know about…"

The twins grinned mock-innocently, Fred making the mistake of glancing across the room before catching himself. It was just enough of a slip up that perked my interest. I glanced over, making it obvious that I was looking in the same direction Fred had been. Out of the corner of my eye I saw George slap Fred on his knee and mutter something in his ear about giving everything away. I smiled in satisfaction as I studied the opposite side of the room with intent. There were a couple of armchairs and a roaring fire, but that was about it. There wasn't anything out of order, or at least that's what I thought at first. Then I noticed the odd aura that surrounded the alcove that held the entrance to the common room.

I turned back around and raised my eyebrows at the two of them, making it obvious I knew they had done something.

"So does it throw someone back out of the common room when they try to enter or does it propel them forward into the common room with little promise of a safe stop?"

Both of their jaws dropped as they stared at me in awe. I laughed.

"So which is it?"

Fred looked over at George, initiating their twin-talk once again. I waited patiently until George inclined his head and Fred turned to me.

"The first one," he revealed.

"But your other idea is brilliant!" George exclaimed.

I smiled self-consciously for the second time.

We spent the next little while talking about the specifics of whatever they had done. Sitting there with the twins made me think, for the first time, that I was going to like it here afterall.

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**A/N: I do apologize for the very late update. It seems that I hit severe writer's block, but thankfully that's mostly gone away.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sadly, Jazz is the only thing I own here, except for the storyline. *Grumble* I apologize for the double posting. For some reason my computer decided to not save the spell checked version... I get a little finger happy when typing and sometimes end up with interesting typos.**

The room that I got to call my dormitory had three other girls in it, a far cry from my old dorm. My old one was only a two-person room, and needless to say I was going to have to get used to there being three other people that I had to sleep with.

Wait! That did not sound right…

What I meant to say was I was going to have to get used to sharing my room with three other people. I don't guess it was going to be that hard, though. The other three girls seemed nice. Angelina Johnson, a tall dark haired girl, and Alicia Spinnet, a tall blonde haired girl, quickly educated me on the specifics of quidditch, and the other girl, Patricia Stimpson, seemed to be opposite of her roommates. She was average height with long, curly black hair, and didn't say more to me than introducing herself.

I soon learned that none of the three were early risers. Maybe it was the fact that I was still used to waking up early, since my old school insisted on having early classes, but regardless of the reason I found myself once again waking up extremely early.

I gathered my school robes and my toiletries, being careful to be quieter than my roommate's light snoring. It was not a very hard feat to accomplish. Alicia's snoring was not the quietest in the world.

I slipped out of the dorm and made my way to where I assumed the showers were. Of course, my assumption was based off the layout of my old dorm's layout where the showers were just a little piece down the hall from my room. However when I opened the door that I guess was the showers, I found that I could not have been more wrong. I had not opened the door to the showers, but to the boys' dorm.

"Hey, transferee!" one of the twins, Fred by my best guess, greeted me.

I blushed scarlet when I realized he was in nothing but his scarlet underwear and even more so when I realized he looked pretty good in them. Fred smirked in response.

"What brings you to this particular room?" he asked cockily.

I narrowed my eyes, knowing that if I responded any other way I would be in deep trouble.

"I forgot this was nothing like my old common room," I replied.

"So you're bathrooms were in the boys' dormitory?" George asked, amusement written clearly on his face.

He then looked at his twin before the two turned to me with identical evil expressions on their faces.

"Interesting."

My cheeks burnt even more, and any attempt that I made to send them death glares was completely pointless. I settled for sighing in annoyance as I looked around the room.

The boys' dorm was similar to the girls' in set up, which was unlike my old house's boy's dorm. There were two bunk beds and a single loft bed, all adorned in blue and black, but here there were three four poster beds adorned in scarlet and gold that lined the walls. Fred's was nearest the door, hence the reason I had the privilege of the… view immediately when I walked in. His trunk was open, and inside it were neatly folded school robes, a bag full of some kind of candy I was sure I did not want to eat, and a single book that I could not read the title of. George's bed was right beside of Fred's with his trunk securely shut under it. He was lounging on it, twirling his wand between the fingers of his right hand in feigned boredom. The bed beside of George belonged to a tall boy with black hair and brown eyes. He was sitting on his bed, which was neatly made up although there were now at least fifteen individual pieces of parchment scattered across it. Apparently I had not only interrupted Fred changing clothes, but also something that required extensive research.

George, noticing my attention on the boy I did not know, introduced me to him and kept me from analyzing the other beds in the room.

"Jazz, this is Lee Jordan, our comrade in troublemaking. Lee, this is Jazlynn Smith, our transferee."

I shot George a glare when he neglected to inform Lee to call me Jazz. George smirked.

"Call her Jazz," he continued once he figured I had squirmed enough, "or transferee."

I rolled my eyes at the name George tacked on, but said nothing on it. The truth was, that although the twins were using the name as some sort of initiation or whatever, it did not really bother me. I was the transferee here, much like I had been the daredevil back at home. There was not one thing I would not do when pulling things over on others… except physical harm, or any kind of scarring harm really. Here I was the new girl and very much the transferee.

"Transferee," Lee repeated, his voice asking for the reason as to why I was filling that role.

I laughed. Lee reminded me a lot of the twins so therefore I figured he would get the same amusement the twins did.

"I short circuited the magical wall back at my old school, or rather I was in the process of short circuiting it when I was caught," I replied.

"When you were caught?" Lee questioned.

I hesitated. I should not have been caught, but sometimes crap just hits the fan and you have got to bail with what you have in order to not lose what you are. They could not know this, though. It was one of the reason my dear mother transferred me across the Atlantic: they were less likely to know the details of my transfer.

"Well I'd say a friend of mine, but I'd be lying if I called her that," I said, barely managing to keep most the scorn out of my voice, "so I'll just say someone I used to be close to ratted out on my friend and me. Needless to say, a teacher caught us faster than you could say 'transferee'."

The three exchanged looks, of which I did not want to read into, and an almost awkward silence fell over us. I shuffled my feet before remembering my original intent instead of talking to the twins.

"Oh! Bathroom?"

They laughed in response, and Fred walked forward.

"I'll walk you there," he said, "I need to visit the boys' loo myself."

He had slipped on a Gryffindor t-shirt and a pair of long pajama bottoms somewhere between the time I was introduced to Lee and the time I asked for the bathroom. He walked past me and pushed open the door, beckoning me to follow him.

"You know, you really need to stop comparing Hogwarts to your old school," he said.

"Yeah, and why's that?" I challenged.

He laughed.

"Two seconds earlier, and you would've gotten a _real_ view."

I felt the blush return to my cheeks, and for a second I was flabbergasted at what to say next. He, thankfully, unknowingly came to my rescue.

"Unless that was your motivation the entire time…"

Or not. Fred smirked as my cheeks burned brighter. I snorted, ignoring my burning cheeks, and tried to play it off.

"Don't get your hopes up, Weasley."

Although my retort did not wipe the smirk off his face like I was hoping it would, I did, however, regain a little dignity.

"What were you guys working on in there?" I questioned.

_That_ did wipe the smirk off of his face. Well, it sort of did; for a split second it faltered, before it returned full force.

"Just drawing up some plans for a Christmas send off," he replied cryptically.

"In other words, that's need to know information and I am not need to know?"

He grimaced.

"Something like that."

I sent him a smirk of my own, although I could feel my stomach churning. I did not blame Fred, of course; I mean, I was a transferee—a newbie with nothing to convince any of them that I would not betray them like my once friend had me. That still did not mean that it did not feel like a knife twisting around in my stomach at his skepticism about me.

Fred came to a stop in front of a wooden door identical to the doors to both my dorm _and_ the boys' dorm.

"Memorize this," he instructed, "unless you want to see something that will definitely make your morning…"

He trailed off, his smirk once again prominent on his face. Laughter danced behind his blue eyes, trapping whatever retort I had in my throat.

"Thought you had to go to the loo, Fred?" George's voice, so identical to Fred's own, floated to us and interrupted whatever it was that was happening between Fred and me.

Fred looked over his shoulder with a look of plain annoyance on his face. George was sticking his head out of the boys' dorm, amusement written across his face. He sent a wink our way, either at Fred or me, I was not sure. Fred turned back to me with an apologetic expression.

"Meet you in the common room in half an hour?" he suggested.

I lowered my eyebrows in question.

"So you don't take the wrong turn, using your old school as a navigation system, and end up in the Slytherin common rooms," he replied slyly.

"Don't be late," I replied. "I'm not very patient, _and _I might just wing it on my own."

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**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**It's a new year, yet I still own nothing that belongs to JKR.**

A refreshing shower, change of clothes, and thirty minutes later, I made my way down to the common room. It was fuller than it had been at one AM, of course I would attribute that to the fact that students were actually awake now.

Speaking of students, they were all staring at me. I do not mean just glancing covertly when they did not think I was looking; they were full out gawking at me.

Their stares reminded me a lot of the students back at my old school. With half the stunts I pulled there, I got a lot of attention. My least favorite teacher got a little too much enjoyment out of administering my punishment for other students to watch. He ended up on the worst end of the deal, though, after I served my due time and administered my revenge.

I had spent that entire time flashing back to my old teacher, and everyone was still staring at me. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I had not even been there for twelve hours and I was already tired of being treated as a monkey in the zoo. I may be slightly used to the attention, but that did not mean I was enjoying it.

"And here I thought you were being serious about winging it on your own," Fred said behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder and shot a mischievous smile at my saving grace. With Fred there, I did not have to concentrate on the gawking.

"Well, I figured a couple of red-heads wouldn't appreciate having to save my American behind from the dungeons."

"A couple of red-heads?" George repeated, coming up to stand beside his twin. "What makes you so certain _both_ of us would brave the dungeons for some transferee who couldn't rewire the magical wall at their old school?"

George's tone was light, but that did not stop the reminder of the icy betrayal that immediately slapped me in the face. I tried to keep my expression blank; however, one look at the twins' faces told me I had failed. George smiled apologetically, and I could not help but think the gesture was foreign to him—neither of the twins was accustomed to apologizing for a seemingly harmless joke.

"Because saving said transferee would be an excuse to drop a couple of joke products without the strict detection of Professor Und—" I managed to stop myself from verbally calling the head of my house by the nickname I had bestowed upon her the night before, but both Fred and George picked up on it without my finishing.

The twins smirked identical smirks that gave me an unsettling feeling in my stomach. It was the same smirk I had seen countless times on my best friend back at my old school and the same smirk that had tickled my lips more often than not.

I cleared by throat awkwardly and shifted my weight from foot to foot.

"Should we proceed down to breakfast?"

"As long as you're not the one leading," Lee said from George's right. I had not previously noticed his appearance, but from the way he held himself, I was under the impression he had been there a while.

"Well, if we stand here any longer, I might just take the initiative."

"Couldn't have that, now could we?" Fred asked, advancing on me.

When Fred got close enough, he offered me his arm. I immediately took it, instantly shocked by the feeling of Fred's arm wrapped through mine. He lead me through the common room and out into the corridor. I vaguely noticed Lee and George following at our heels.

It seemed that it was not only the Gryffindors from the common room this morning that was treating me as an animal at a zoo. Every student we passed allowed their eyes to rake over me longer than necessary, and it was beginning to be a little unnerving.

I adjusted my robe for the fifth time, still not completely used to the article of clothing, and ignored the laugh that escaped Fred's lips.

"You are aware that by doing that you draw more attention to yourself?" he asked, his breath tickling my ear. "Besides, I thought you lived to prank people—shouldn't you be used to the stares you're getting?"

I shook my head.

"I'm the kind of person that can manage to charm the food on each of the serving plates to disappear the moment someone tries to dish something out without anyone realizing I had anything to do with it."

Fred looked over at me with something akin to astonishment on his face. I felt a small smile tug at my lips and a blush burn my cheeks.

We had entered the Great Hall by then, and I stopped to admire the beauty. There were four long tables that ran one way for all the students and a fifth table that ran the opposite way for the staff. The ceiling, which immediately drew my attention, looked eerily like the morning sky. Even though the wooden tables and stoned floors gave the Great Hall a rather old décor, it was more magnificent than the dining area could even hope to be at my old school. Back there, there were many smaller tables decorated in a modern style and designed for students to dine with only their friends. There had not been a trace of magic in the entire room, except for the transportation of food, and the ceiling was most certainly not charmed.

George and Lee had walked up evenly with Fred and me by then.

"You wouldn't happen to know any charms that work on moving staircases, would you?" George asked, lowering his voice so only Fred, Lee, and I could hear him.

I was still admiring the Great Hall by then, and noticed the four of us were catching the eye of some of the staff, as well as the students. The most prominent attention we were getting was a strict look from Professor McGonagall. Apparently she just as no-nonsense at seven AM as she was at one AM.

"I may have an idea," I replied quietly, "but it would depend on why you want to know."

I knew that was the one bargaining chip I could use to get in on whatever mayhem the Weasley twins and Lee were about to unleash.

"Easter holidays are coming up," Fred replied, and I knew my bargaining chip had worked.

"We're wanting to start them off with a bang," George added.

I opened my mouth to question more, but either the twins or Lee realized the attention we were getting and decided it was time to take a seat at the Gryffindor table. Lee lead the way and sat down with George at his right and Fred and me in front of them. I knew that meant the previous conversation was on hold for the moment.

"So you're the new girl," a red-headed boy sitting at George's right said to me. I could not help but notice similarities between the twins and the boy.

"Honestly, Ronald," the bushy brown-haired girl on the other side of him snapped. "Where did you get your manners?"

Fred looked over at me, amusement written on his face.

"That's our little brother, Ron, in case you haven't already deducted that yourself. The girl beside him is Hermione, and the boy across from him the glasses and the lightening shaped scar—I don't think I need to tell you who he is. They're third years."

I nodded my head and smiled at Fred's younger brother and his friends, pretending as if I did indeed know the other boy's name. Lee, who I had neglected to pay much attention to, noticed the confusion written on my face; I definitely needed to read Lee as well as he read me.

"You don't know who that is, do you?"

My eyes snapped to his, my cheeks burning once again. I shook my head.

"That's Harry Potter. Surely you Americans must've heard of him."

My eyes traveled to the boy in question as my mind struggled to remember the European history class I had taken back at my old school. Sure, the history teacher had been my favorite staff personnel, but even she struggled to keep my attention on school-related content. I was too busy planning my next stunt or memorizing the latest issue of "Quodpot International."

"He defeated You-Know-Who!" Lee continued, reading the obliviousness on my face.

Then I remembered: Harry Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort as a toddler. I did not know that from the history class or from the rumors that spread like wildfire. No, I knew that from reorganizing every book in my old school's vast library at least a hundred times. My headmistress's favorite form of punishment for me was to stick me in a completely silent room, not knowing that I rather enjoyed the library; however, a couple weeks into my first year, I quickly realized her form of punishment worked to her advantage—I did not like rearranging books in a library.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," I apologized for some reason. I assumed I felt the need to do so in front of Harry. "I've never been much of one to pay attention in history class."

The twins and Lee both laughed; those three were definitely not surprised by my response.

"Let's hope that doesn't happen in Transfiguration class," said a voice behind me that could only belong to Professor McGonagall.

I jumped uncharacteristically and immediately cursed under my breath. I had never been jumpy in my entire life, and I used to be more aware of my surroundings. Of course, that was before I was betrayed, expelled, and sent across the ocean.

I turned around, careful to keep my face blank, and looked up at the head of my new house. She was still regarding me with the same stern expression I was beginning to think she was famous for. She shoved a piece of parchment into my hand.

"This is your time table. Note you have Transfiguration in twenty minutes; do not be late, Miss Smith."

Her eyes flickered to the twins and Lee before resting on me for another second. She then turned on her heel and walked off.

"I take it you are well acquainted with the head of our house…" Lee trailed off.

I turned back to him and shrugged.

"Is she that pleasant with everyone?" I asked sarcastically.

The other three shook their heads.

"What's her quaffle with you?" Lee asked.

"She might know the details of my prior expulsion."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review.**


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